


Go Fuck Yourself

by gyungmi



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Cheating, Faked orgasms, M/M, Narcissist Jisung, Recreational Drug Use, Selfcest, Unhealthy Relationships, kind of, mirror sex?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22520809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyungmi/pseuds/gyungmi
Summary: Jisung doesn't just love himself, he's obsessed with himself.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, Bang Chan/Seo Changbin (brief), Han Jisung | Han/Han Jisung | Han, Han Jisung | Han/Original Female Character (brief)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 103





	Go Fuck Yourself

It felt good, all things considered. The sweet scent of Soyeon’s peach body gel clung to everything: her soft hair, her soft skin, the soft bedsheets. And although they were small, resembling nothing like the D-cups Jisung was used to seeing in porn, her breasts were somewhat fun to squeeze. Even the inside of Soyeon was so warm. The softness surrounding his dick felt good. Soyeon felt _so good_ , with her soft breasts and her soft hips and her soft voice and her soft insides.

“Fuck, baby,” she whimpers quietly into his shoulder, and the pet name catches Jisung off guard. Soyeon wasn’t his baby, she was a last-minute hookup. Fucking his English tutor might have been in his dick’s best interest two hours ago, but the thought of her potentially getting attached has the rhythm of Jisung’s hips beginning to falter. “You’re fucking me so good, baby. Are you close?”

“Yeah,” Jisung moans, the word vibrating deep in his chest as he readjusts the grip on her soft thighs. Soyeon makes another noise, high and whiny, and Jisung feels the softness begin to tighten around him. His eyes slip closed as he refocuses on fucking Soyeon into her mattress, quickening the pace of his thrusts to finish her off quickly. He wants to get this over with already. Thankfully, Jisung is pulled deeper in Soyeon’s softness and he feels her hips begin to twitch beneath him, a telltale sign of her impending orgasm. Her long lashes flutter and her soft bottom lip was drawn beneath her front teeth while she suppressed one final, drawn-out whine. And because Jisung really wants to sell it, he whispers in her ear, “That’s right, noona. Cum on my cock, just like that.”

Soyeon goes rigid beneath him for a fraction of a second before softening again, and Jisung fucks into her three more times before he tenses and groans with relief. He even jerks his hips a couple of times to make it seem like he really came. They lay there with each other for a few moments, taking in quick gulps of air until their breathing is back to normal. Soyeon is the first to break the silence, giggling quietly to herself and craning her neck upwards to press a few delicate kisses on the shell of Jisung’s ear. Jisung decides to let out a chuckle in return just to humor her. “Was it good?” she asks while unhooking her ankles from around his hips, letting her feet finally fall to the bed beneath them, “Did you cum hard, baby?”.

“Mmhm, it felt awesome,” he says and they both let out a sigh as he finally pulls out from her softness.

“Hm, you’re so cute Jisung. I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner,” Soyeon giggles again and moves to leave a vacant space on the sweat-soaked sheets beside her, an invitation to cuddle. Jisung knows better than to take the bait. Instead he maneuvers from his position on top of her to plant his feet on the floor, rising from the bed and stretching his arms up above his head. “I don’t know,” he finally replies with a well-practiced smile, “maybe because I’m not supposed to be fucking my tutor?”

Soyeon grins, “Do you regret it?”. The playfulness in her voice makes it seem like she already knows the answer.

  
“Of course I don’t, you’re the hottest tutor I’ve slept with so far,” he jokes and begins making his way to the bathroom connected to Soyeon’s bedroom, “Mind if I use it?”

“Go for it, but don’t take forever. I’m gonna have to pee”

Jisung nods and slips into the crampedness of Soyeon’s half-bath. An escape. Knowing that he’s pressed for time, Jisung wraps one hand around his still half-hard cock and begins fisting it quickly, immediately making eye contact with himself in the mirror hanging above the sink. Even with his reflection veiled in dried water spots and fingerprint smudges, Jisung still finds the image of himself, fucking into his hand and face contorted into a look of concentration, to be beautiful. He looks so sexy, feels so sexy. He spent the last half hour fucking into Soyeon but is able to cum from his own hand in less than two minutes. And fuck, it felt better than Soyeon’s softness ever could.

Fucking girls felt pretty good, but it never got him off.

¨

“So, you finally did it with that tutor noona?” Chan makes an attempt to sound nonchalant, like his question doesn’t really carry any real weight to it. Just petty conversation to fill the silence in the studio, and to snuff out the awkwardness between them. But Jisung thinks that Chan’s attempt at subtlety can’t be any more pitiful. He pretends to occupy himself with the sound mixer, readjusting the settings for probably the third time; anything to avoid looking over at the pathetic puddle that Chan is melting into. He doesn’t care if he looks stupid, or obvious. At least he knows he can’t look any more stupid or obvious than Chan already does. His knee bouncing, his hesitance to make eye contact, how he adjusts himself in the desk chair for the _fifth time_ in the span of thirty seconds. It’s obvious that Chan isn’t over him, and Jisung forgets himself for a moment and almost feels bad for his friend. But then he remembers that he’s Han Jisung, and that if he were Chan, he wouldn’t be able to get over him either. The thought brings a tiny smile to his lips, which he disguises as a reaction to recalling his hookup with Soyeon. But secretly, Chan’s helpless crush feeds Jisung’s overinflated ego to bursting.

“It was really good” Jisung responds casually, just to watch Chan nod and adjust himself for the sixth time from the corner of his eye. It’s a little painful to witness, but some part of Jisung refuses to let him turn away. “I think it might turn into a regular thing for us,” which is a complete lie, but the lapse in honesty is well worth watching how his words eat away at Chan from the inside.

“Oh, yeah? That good?” Jisung notices Chan feigning focus on his laptop screen, double clicking on random files just to close them and double click on others. The display becomes a little less pitiful and a little more cute, in Jisung’s opinion. He’s convinced that this is the moment where Chan realizes that he’s still just as hung up on Jisung as he’s always been. The lies he’s been telling himself to keep from being vulnerable are beginning to unravel. Jisung feels flattered.

“Yeah, man. But being with Soyeon-noona made me realize something, I think.”

“Realize something like what? You wanna marry her now?”

“Fuck no,” Jisung genuinely laughs at the suggestion. Maybe when Hell freezes over.

“Then what?”

Jisung thinks back to how he jerked off in Soyeon’s bathroom, and every other time he’s had to secretly get himself off after hookups. He thinks about his reflection staring back at him, naked and hard and _daring_ him to reach through the mirror and touch.

“I think I might not be straight. How did you figure out that you were bi?”

Chan’s fingers still over the trackpad and his eyes meet with Jisung’s for the first time since their conversation started, “Whoa, what? You think you might be into guys? I thought you said the sex was good!”

“It was! It’s just that,” Jisung pauses and wonders how truthful he wants to be, what parts of the truth he should omit, “I don’t know, man. Isn’t fucking your tutor supposed to be every straight guy’s wet dream? And Soyeon-noona is so pretty, but even afterwards it just left something to be desired.”

“And you think that ‘something’ is a dick?” Chan smiles, clearly amused.

“It might be,” Jisung admits, “so tell me how you found out you weren’t straight. Please hyung?”

“Okay,” Chan nods and lets his gaze lazily drift upwards as he dives into the recesses of his memory, “I found out around the time I was 15, I’m pretty sure. I was in my school’s swim club and there was a teammate that I really admired at the time. He always looked out for the freshies and would sneak us Choco Pies after practice, all that sort of stuff. Eventually I realized that what I mistook for admiration was actually a crush. I stopped wanting to be him and started wanting to be _with_ him. I started to find his manly features just as attractive as, say, boobs on girls. Have you ever felt like that before?”

Jisung remembers Soyeon’s Japanese manicure, how the gems glued onto her ring fingers scratched marks onto his back. He remembers Soyeon’s softness and he remembers his reflection fucking into his closed fist. Jisung experiences a brief moment of clarity.

“Yeah, yeah I think so. I get what you mean.”

“Tell me about it, I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Chan sounds sincere at first, like he’s a hyung who’s genuinely interested in helping out his sexually confused friend. No ulterior motives. Maybe Jisung would be fooled if he wasn’t already familiar with these same tactics. Carefully hidden beneath the façade of a caring hyung is a lying ass-kisser who’s desperate to learn something private about Jisung. He’ll be the first to know that Jisung isn’t straight, and this secret will only bring them closer. For a moment, Jisung thinks that maybe Chan isn’t as honorable as he initially lets off.

“After doing it with Soyeon-noona, I had to rub one out in the bathroom because I just wasn’t satisfied, you know what I mean? And the entire time I was jerking it, I just couldn’t stop thinking about” Jisung pauses, deciding not to reveal too much, “you know.”

“Have you fucked around with guys before?”

“No”

Jisung doesn’t miss the glimmer of hope that flashes across Chan’s face when he asks, “Do you want to?”

“I want to, but I really don’t know how”

A pause.

“I think,” Chan begins again, relaxing his shoulders and swiveling in his desk chair so that he’s finally looking at Jisung properly, “that maybe I could help you out.” When Jisung stays silent, Chan shifts closer, and Jisung can’t miss the faintness of Chan’s touch on his thigh. It’s barely there, like the gentleness of his touch is asking if this is okay, but the slight pressure is unmistakable. “Would that be okay… baby?” Chan’s voice is unusually quiet, and it sounds like he’s testing out the pet name for the first time and trying to decide whether he likes the feel of it on his tongue. Whether _Jisung_ likes the feel of it. Jisung decides, then and there, that he’s going to play this game.

“Hyung… do you want to?”

“So badly,” Chan admits, the façade beginning to crack in his desperation, “I’ve always wanted to. But I don’t want to do anything if you aren’t okay with it.” Despite his reluctance, Jisung feels Chan’s hand on his thigh squeeze just a little tighter. Interesting.

Chan’s confession falls flat, since it’s not like his infatuation with Jisung was some well-kept secret. Seeing Chan hopeless like this becomes painful again, but the ball is in Jisung’s court and he plays his next move anyway.

He lets his legs fall open wider, picking up Chan’s hand to place it even further up his inner thigh and allowing him to test out the feeling of the flesh there. “Teach me, hyung?” he tempts, watching the expression on Chan’s face morph into something dangerous. Jisung has never seen this layer of Chan peeled back before, but he decides that he likes it a lot.

“Fuck. Yes, yeah, I’ll show you everything, Jisung”

Making out with Chan starts off a little bit boring. He’s being too pliant, too accommodating, too _soft_. His fingers ghost over Jisung’s cheeks, and Jisung can feel the coolness from his silver rings while his hand travels to the nape of his neck. By the time Chan’s fingers are beginning to knot themselves into his hair, tugging all too gently, Jisung’s itch for more becomes unbearable. He swallows Chan’s quiet moans as he straddles him, and Jisung can tell by the poke on his thigh that Chan appreciates the weight on his lap. It isn’t long after that Chan finally, fucking _finally_ drops his hand to squeeze Jisung’s ass through his jeans. Rewarding him for his efforts, Jisung sighs happily into his mouth.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Forget about Soyeon.”

Jisung smiles as he begins to run his tongue across Chan’s lower lip, “Okay.”

In all honesty, it’s easy to let memories of Soyeon’s softness disappear once Chan is working both of their cocks with his hand, and Jisung feels a shudder wrack down his spine at the drag of Chan’s jewelry up and down his dick. Every now and then, Chan will rub tiny fast circles at the head of Jisung’s length before tracing a finger down the underside to reach his balls. The whimper that escapes from him is embarrassing, but it’s impossible to keep quiet when Chan is kneading his balls like this. “You’re making the prettiest sounds, Jisung,” Chan groans into Jisung’s neck as he kisses the delicate skin there, “You like it when I touch your cock like this, don’t you? I can’t wait to show you how to fuck, you’re so damn cute”

“Yes, hyung. Holy shit,” Jisung whines, thrusting his hips shallowly against Chan’s dick in search of more friction. It’s feeling so good, but it still isn’t enough.

“I like it when you call me hyung.”

“Hyung,” Jisung moans again, “hurry up and show me.”

Chan’s grip on their cocks quickly disappears, and Jisung lets out a sound of surprise when he feels Chan wrap his arms around him and move him back into his empty desk chair. He doesn’t like the transition from his cock being buried in Chan’s warm hand to being left without any kind of stimulation, but his annoyance dissipates when he sees his hyung bending himself over the table his laptop is resting on. Still stroking himself while he widens the position of his legs, Chan casts a teasing look over his shoulder at Jisung. “Don’t take your eyes off of me, okay baby?” he says, lifting up the hand that was tugging at his leaking dick to let a wad of spit drip from his mouth into his palm. Jisung stares as Chan smears the mix of saliva and precum down his perineum and lets it drip down onto his asshole. Chan takes his time now, using a couple of his fingers to playfully circle around his hole and occasionally grabbing large handfuls of his ass to squeeze. Jisung watches the entire display while seated in his desk chair, fisting slowly at the erection standing heavy between his legs. “Still paying attention, baby?” Chan asks after a while, and Jisung nods his head once his hyung cranes his neck back to look for a response.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah, hyung,” Jisung answers, his fingers freezing towards the tip of his cock before dragging them back down slowly.

“Good, keep yourself nice and hard for me, okay?” Chan grins and inches his hand back towards his hole, “I’m going to finger myself now.”

Jisung knows, logically, that the sight of Chan fucking himself open on his fingers is sexy. The groans muffled into the sleeve of his hoodie is sexy, and the fact that he manages to squeeze in four fingers after only a matter of minutes is sexy. Chan is a conventionally attractive man, and he’s falling apart right there in front of Jisung, begging to be watched. Yet, the only thing keeping him hard at the moment is the jerking motion of his hand while his mind wanders back to his fucked-out reflection in Soyeon’s mirror. He’s disappointed once his thoughts are interrupted by Chan beckoning him to come over. Jisung doesn’t remember Chan’s asshole looking this swollen not that long ago, and he wonders whether or not fucking into it now will feel good or not. Suddenly Chan flips onto his back and lets his legs fall apart, linking his ankles around Jisung’s waist and tugging him close enough to rub against him. “You’ve had sex with girls before, so you sort of already know what to do. I won’t have to worry about you sticking it into the wrong hole or anything,” Chan laughs through his nose and snakes his hands around his legs to keep himself spread open, “Just line it up and push in. You have to use a little bit more force than you’re used to, though.”

Jisung positions himself as he was instructed and places one hand on Chan’s hip to steady himself, using this other hand to guide his dick to the puffy-looking entrance. Though instead of pushing in immediately, he slowly fucks the space between his hyung’s asscheeks. Chan moans out in anticipation when he feels Jisung’s cock slap against his asshole.

“You’re sure it won’t hurt, hyung? It looks really red” Jisung pauses once he’s lined up to fuck inside.

“You don’t have to worry about hurting me, baby. I want it, so give it to me.”

With no further prompting needed, Jisung nods and pushes his hips forward until his dick is being sucked into Chan completely. The initial push required a bit more effort than he was expecting, just as Chan had warned him, but the new tightness that now surrounded him draws out a delighted sigh from Jisung.

“Feels really different from a pussy, right?” Chan half laughs and half moans, one hand abandoning the grip on his thigh to begin stroking himself slowly, “I’m feeling really good right now. Does it feel good for you?”

“Yeah. Just, yeah. Fuck, hyung just shut up for a second?”

Jisung knows, logically, that dirty talk is sexy. Chan calling him his baby is sexy, Chan begging to be fucked is sexy, Chan’s confidence is sexy. Yet, his incessant whining comes off as annoying, and for the second time today, Jisung experiences a moment of clarity. He doesn’t want to fuck Chan. He wishes he could be fucking his reflection instead. Chan squirms a little bit beneath him and his boldness is temporarily replaced with insecurity. That’s all it takes for Jisung to remember that he’s in control. Good.

“Sorry, is it too much?”

“No, it’s not too much. Just different,” Jisung backtracks, leaning forward to brush his lips against Chan’s, “You feel really good, hyung. So don’t worry.” To prove his point, Jisung snaps his hips once and watches Chan melt underneath him with another obnoxious whine. And at this point, Jisung simply can’t help himself. He uses one hand to trap both of Chan’s wrists up above his head and uses the other to smother his moans, smiling at the feeling of his hyung’s tongue sliding against his open palm while he slips his dick in and out of him. Jisung’s hold on Chan’s hands is slippery and a little bit clumsy, it’s the kind of grip that Chan could easily overpower and escape from if he actually tried, but instead he chooses to lay there and take everything he’s being given. He knows his place. Still, Chan’s transformation from a cocky sex tutor to a whiny fucktoy has Jisung’s mind reeling, and fucking into him becomes a little bit more enjoyable.

“You’re making me feel so fucking good, love fucking your ass, hyung. You take it so well,” Jisung growls into his ear, not surprised at all when he hears Chan groan pitifully in reply, “You’re really responsive, too. You really just lay there and take it, it’s so fucking hot. You made it seem like you were doing me a favor, having me fuck you like this, but the truth is that you were just gagging for my cock this whole time, huh? Answer me, hyung.”

Chan’s lips and chin are coated in a shiny layer of his own spit once Jisung removes his hand to permit him to speak, but Chan still stops to take in quick breaths of air before he says anything. Jisung smears the remaining saliva clinging to his palm across Chan’s face, feeling proud of the mess he’s making out of the man beneath him. Jisung has the control here, he’s always had the control between them.

“You’re fucking me better than I ever imagined. I’ve wanted this for so long, dreamed about this since forever ago,” Chan croaks out, his voice sounding wet, “Want you to wreck me, Jisungie. Can you do that for me, baby? Please? You’re already doing me so good”

“You’re so selfish, hyung. Isn’t this supposed to be about me?”

Jisung eases up from on top of Chan and releases his wrists, snorting at the sound of disappointment his hyung makes when he pulls himself from his hole, “Stop crying, I’m not done fucking you yet.” Jisung is easily able to rotate Chan’s body back to his original position, with his face down and his ass pushed outwards. He can tell that Chan’s dick is stuck uncomfortably between his own stomach and the table, but that doesn’t stop him from rutting against the smooth surface in desperation for some friction. Jisung thinks that Chan looks best like this, pathetically grinding his naked lower body against his work table while practically begging to get fucked. Admittedly, Jisung hasn’t made an effort to touch Chan’s cock since they started, so he allows his hyung to enjoy this moment. After all, doing Chan from behind finally allows Jisung’s mind to wander to dangerous places, to imagine himself being held down and pounded just like he’s doing to his hyung. God, Jisung wants to fuck himself. His dick twitches at the concept.

“Doing it like this is way better,” Jisung starts up again, both of his hands squeezing at the flesh gathered around Chan’s hips while he fucks him harder into the table. The equipment set-up is jostling violently, and Chan’s open laptop begins to inch dangerously close to the table’s edge from the force of his thrusts. Fuck the equipment. Fuck Chan’s future laptop repair bill. Jisung is chasing his orgasm with so much ferocity that nothing else matters. “You’re so hot,” he moans, his eyes slipped closed as he remembers his reflection in the mirror, fantasizing that the heat surrounding his cock and sucking him in deeper is his own, “I’ve always wanted have you like this, I always knew you’d look so pretty like this.”

“Fuck yes. Keep talking to me like that, Jisung...”

“You fucking tease, you know I think about you all the time, and now I finally have you,” Jisung says to himself. He feels so good, he never knew that the inside of himself would feel this _good._ Fuck Soyeon’s softness and fuck Chan, everything he could ever hope for is right here. All Jisung needs is himself.

“You’re literally made to take me. We’re made for each other, baby, I never wanna let you go.”

“Fuck, baby. Yes, I’m all yours. All I’ve ever wanted to be was yours.”

“You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, baby.”

“All mine.”

“Fuck, Jisungie,” Chan is in tears at this point, moving to lift a leg up and give himself access to his own cock before jerking it with quick strokes, “I’m gonna cum, baby. Wanna come together with you.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Anywhere, I’ll take it anywhere. Just, please Sung, I’m so close.”

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

“Give me permission.”

“Cum, bitch,” Jisung orders, and Chan sobs loudly into his sleeve while his cum finally leaks through the cracks of his fingers. It isn’t until Jisung slips his dick out of Chan and spills his load all over him that he finally escapes his haze. There’s cum staining the back of Chan’s Balenciaga hoodie, and the vision of himself impaled on his own cock slowly vanishes. All that’s left of Jisung’s fantasy is the pathetic mess that is Chan, and he has to watch in annoyance as his hyung’s thighs shake endlessly from his orgasm.

¨

Since fucking in the studio, everything between Jisung and Chan simultaneously fell into place and crumbled apart. The sex was decent enough, once Chan had gathered the courage to fuck Jisung instead of the other way around, Jisung frequently found himself repeating his hyung’s praises to his own reflection in the mirror. It became sort of a routine: Jisung would ask Chan how he feels while the older man thrusts into him, raving about how hot and tight and good Jisung feels around his cock. From there, Jisung would either close his eyes and get off to the daydream of his reflection pushing into him, or he would choose to fuck his hand in front of the mirror after Chan had succumbed to a post-orgasm nap. The arrangement was mutually beneficial, since Chan was finally sleeping with his long-time crush and Jisung was able to dive deeper into his explicit fantasies. Things fell into place. But soon enough, Chan’s ‘I want to fuck you’s turned into ‘I love you’s. Things crumbled apart.

Jisung wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of being Chan’s boyfriend, but he couldn’t risk losing the only link between his real self and his reflected self. Chan was a surrogate, and Jisung wasn’t prepared to let his mirror image disappear yet, not when he had already gotten addicted to this fantasy. So when Chan approached him three months after that day in the studio, grocery store flowers in hand and asking to be more than just friends with benefits, Jisung said yes. They spent the remainder of the evening with Chan on all fours and Jisung fucking his reflection hard and fast. It was easier to reciprocate Chan’s feelings that way, whispering _I love you too_ into Chan’s ear despite the words being intended for someone else. Intended for himself. Chan’s thighs are shaking not too long afterward and Jisung feels butterflies flutter in his stomach. This was his first love confession.

A couple of weeks after the confession comes Chan’s birthday, and Jisung is impressed by the amount of people that his boyfriend can fit within his 600 square foot apartment. The facebook invite stated that the party wouldn’t get started until 9, so Jisung is a little disappointed by how tame the gathering is once he arrives around 10 with a small gift in hand. He figures that maybe Chan’s friends are just as mundane as Chan is: straight-laced, owner of at least one pair of khakis, relatively blasé. Judging by the bottles of champagne propped on the kitchen counter in place of vodka or tequila, he can’t be too far off the mark. Everyone who isn’t absorbed in a champagne glass is instead sipping politely on bottles of Heineken, so Jisung can safely assume that no one is getting shitfaced tonight. A part of him expects to find cheese platters and figgy finger desserts on the snack table, but he’s pleasantly surprised when he spots actual party food. There’s chips and dips, five pizza boxes stacked unevenly on top of each other, and even a few half-opened boxes of hot wings. The contrast between the food and drink has Jisung thinking that Chan can’t decide if he wants to be 20 or 30. He’s is in the middle of trying to figure out if turning 25 is putting Chan through some sort of identity crisis when he feels a pair of arms snake around his waist and tug him backwards into a warm embrace.

“Hey baby!”

“Hey,” Jisung turns his head to steal a kiss from his boyfriend, “Happy birthday.”

“Is this for me?” Chan grins and makes eyes towards the small gift bag Jisung has clutched in his hand. It isn’t much, but Jisung knows that he’ll love the wristwatch. It’s a Movado, and he knows his boyfriend’s affinity for expensive things.

Now Chan is parading Jisung all around his apartment and introducing him to all of his jaded friends. Of course everyone that he meets is an artist, and they’re all pretentious about it too. Jisung is caught a little off guard by their snarkiness, because while Chan is honestly a bit boring, he isn’t bombastic at all. Most of them aren’t even interested in meeting Jisung until he mentions that he’s involved with music too, then suddenly it’s all kumbaya. He decides that the main difference between Chan and his friends is that while their parents could afford to have their child pursue the arts and take gap years to travel to the Mediterranean to find their true selves, Chan actually had talent. 

Once Chan is drawn into some conversation about bulking and cutting, Jisung is more or less left to his own devices, so he takes residence in one of the loveseats in the living room and tinkers with his phone. There’s no way he’s going to subject himself to mingling with these people. The entire atmosphere of the party is putting a serious damper on his mood. There’s some underground artist rapping over the speakers and the conversations taking place around him are stale. By the time 1AM rolls around, Jisung is more than ready to head back home. He’s spent the past hour lingering by the snack table, constantly refilling his miniature paper plate with more hot wings and more slices of veggie pizza until he’s feeling sick to his stomach.

As he wanders out of the kitchen to find his boyfriend and kiss him goodbye, Jisung notices that the vibe of the party has completely changed. It’s now later in the night, and a lot of guests have already wished Chan a final happy birthday before heading back home, but the crowd that remains is grouped together around a bong. There are a few stragglers who are huddled by an open window and sharing a couple of blunts, but at least they have the decency to blow out their smoke out into the late night air. Jisung wonders if Chan knows what’s going on in his own home, and if this is the kind of shit he gets up to in his spare time. Surprisingly enough, everyone gathered in the living room is relaxed and giggly, not at all bothered to keep up appearances and not at all like the disingenuous pricks he had been surrounded by earlier. He supposes even assholes need a break from being assholes.

“Hey, Jisung?” one of the assholes by the window calls out, an unsure look on worn on his face as he silently questions if he got Jisung’s name correctly. Chan introduced him as Minho, an old buddy from college who he used to get into trouble with. Everything else he had been told about Minho had been forgotten already, since none of it seemed relevant.

“Yeah?”

Minho quirks up the corner of his mouth into a half smile and gestures for him to come forward, “Wanna take a hit?”

Jisung really isn’t interested, and he has half a mind to say that he was just on his way out when he has a change of heart. He came all the way out into the city just to have Chan abandon him at his birthday party. Besides passing comments here and there, asking if he was having a good time or if he could refill his champagne glass, Chan hadn’t really spoken to Jisung for the entire night. He hadn’t even actually _seen_ Chan for the past hour. So fuck it, he was already here. Might as well make his trip worthwhile.

A couple of minutes later, Jisung and Minho are hitting it off pretty well. Minho was a lot less douchey when he wasn’t being fake deep or talking about what a musical genius Kendrick Lamar is. In fact, everyone in that little group by the window didn’t seem half as bad as they first came off.

“So, you’re Minho Li? Is that Chinese?” Jisung asks with a smile, bumping into one of Minho’s shoulders to get his attention.

“It’s the Korean Lee, can’t you tell by my given name? Are you even Korean, dude?” Minho laughs and shakes his head, “How many Chinese guys do you know named Minho?”

“What? Oh, fuck. You’re right,” Jisung laughs back. His brain is seriously starting to scramble. He hadn’t even taken that many hits, but his bones are already feeling heavier than he’s used to and the living room is starting to tilt on its axis.

“Han could be a Chinese name too, you know” Minho supplies, “But I know my people when I see them”

“How’s that?”

“Dunno, it’s like a sixth sense, I guess” Minho hums and looks pensive for a few seconds before another smile takes over his face, “You’re not wearing enough Supreme to be Chinese anyway.”

Their conversation continues like that for a while, and by the time he hears Chan’s voice calling him from somewhere across the room, Jisung decides that he likes Minho a lot. There could be a potential friendship there.

“Where’d you disappear to, baby?” Jisung calls back to his boyfriend, but he notices the look of confusion painted on Minho’s face.

“Dude, you’re tripping”

“What?”

“Hyung’s not there,” Minho says, and Jisung does a 180 to discover that he’s right. The entryway is completely empty.

“I heard him”

“Just ignore it, your mind’s playing tricks on you,” Minho reassures him and gestures to the blunt held delicately between his fingers, “The little surprise is kicking in.”

“This shit is laced?” Jisung is staring wide-eyed at Minho, feeling his heart rate begin to pick up a bit. He didn’t know what he had been smoking for the past… wow, how was is already 3 in the morning? It felt like he had been chilling there by the window with Minho for no more than 40, maybe 45 minutes.

“It’s just some acid, you won’t die, Jisung. I promise,” Minho answers, “Don’t freak out, or you’re gonna have a bad trip. Do you wanna lay down?”

Jisung can’t believe that Minho has the balls to look at him as if _he’s_ the one overreacting. Who let’s someone smoke a blunt without disclosing what’s actually rolled in it? He supposes that even in his most likeable state, Minho still can’t help being a bit of an asshole. “I’m gonna go crash on Channie’s bed for a bit,” Jisung says as he starts making his way over to his boyfriend’s bedroom. He pretends not to hear Minho wish him a goodnight. Fuck that guy.

He opens the door to Chan’s bedroom and stumbles inside, not even getting the chance to shut the door behind him when he sees it. Chan is there, it’s where he must have been for the past several hours, and he’s got his tongue plunged into someone else’s throat. The couple on the bed don’t even stop petting each other until Jisung speaks up, “What the hell?”

The sound of his voice startles the two of them apart, and Chan looks up at Jisung with his most pathetic look yet. Now that their faces are finally pried away from each other, Jisung recognizes the other man as one of Chan’s friends from high school that he still kept in contact with. They’d been introduced earlier that evening sometime after meeting Minho, and Chan made knowing eyes at Jisung when he brought up that they were in the same swim club years ago. His bisexual awakening, in the flesh. Seo Changbin, making out with his boyfriend on the bed.

Neither Chan nor Changbin said a single word, but at least Changbin was quick in prying off of Chan and redoing his belt. Jisung honestly hadn’t even noticed that their flies were down until Chan, too, started to zip his pants back up. Chan had made sure to introduce Jisung as his boyfriend to everyone at the party. Changbin must have known how badly he’d fucked up.

And just like that, Changbin was brushing past Jisung’s body in the doorway to make his escape, not even able to lift his head and properly apologize as he mumbled a quiet “sorry” under his breath. Jisung and Chan were alone now. Chan looks like he’s about to throw up.

“Baby?” Chan finally says something, though his voice barely above a whisper. The sound of him makes Jisung want to punch a wall. “I can fix this.”

“Is this seriously the kind of person you are, hyung?”

“I can fix this, Jisung”

“I don’t need you to fix anything,” Jisung is seething. He doesn’t understand why he’s so upset, because it isn’t like he loved Chan in the first place. Maybe it was because he was under the impression that he exercised jurisdiction over Chan. He assumed that Chan would always have eyes for him, and exclusively him. Chan was supposed to be his to manipulate, and being robbed of that control hurt.

“Please let me fix this,” Chan is begging, and the sound of it is so fucking annoying, “they were just kisses. It didn’t go any farther than that, I wouldn’t allow it to go any farther than that.”

“You said that you loved me, you damn liar.”

“I do love you, baby! Everything that I’ve said to you, I’ve meant it! But can you say the same for yourself?”

Jisung doesn’t even know how to respond. He’s always known exactly what to say to get what he wants. It’s been that way for his entire life. And now, for once, he’s at a loss for words. Is Chan being serious right now? “You’re flipping this on _me_?”

“You’re always so distant,” Chan begins, and now he’s got tears dripping onto his cheeks. Holy shit, he’s actually being serious with this. “You won’t even look at me during sex. It honestly feels like you’re just using me sometimes. I was desperate.”

“You’re totally flipping this on me, what the fuck?”

“I’ll never do it again, just please,” Chan is hiccupping, “let me fix this.”

Jisung seriously wants to scream. There’s nothing for Chan to fix or repair. This entire relationship was built on a foundation of deceit, anyway. He might as well let it collapse. He and Chan didn’t deserve to be saved. Fuck this.

“Get out.”

Chan looks hurt. He looks guilty. “This is my room.”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s my birthday!”

“Get out.”

“Jisung-”

“We’re done.”

The tears stop then and there. It’s like a switch has been flipped, and Chan drops the charade once he knows that he’s lost. He doesn’t say a word as he gets up from the bed and pushes past Jisung just as Changbin did moments before. Yeah, breaking up with Chan was the right thing to do. He was secretly a piece of shit too.

Once Chan is gone, Jisung slides onto the bed and tries to calm himself down. The world is still warping around him nonstop, and he has to cover his eyes with his arm to feel a little more oriented. This entire night has been one huge dumpster fire. The argument is over, it’s been over for God knows how long now, but Jisung is still fuming over Chan’s words. He loved him? What a joke. At least now he could laugh about it.

“But I _do_ love you.”

Jisung shot up from his position on the bed, turning his body in the direction of the voice. The sight of his reflection in Chan’s body-length mirror wasn’t uncommon, but being spoken to by it definitely was. He sat there frozen for a while, just watching his reflection smile back at him with mischievous intent. This obviously wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, but Jisung wanted so badly for it to be. He tumbles out of the bed and walks up to the mirror to take a better look at himself. His reflection is grinning even harder now.

“I love you, baby,” his reflection says again, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Jisung replies hesitantly, not exactly sure how he should be feeling. He felt weird for sure, but there was also some other feeling stirring deep in his gut. It’s arousal, he decides. He’s getting turned on.

“Pretty baby,” his reflection sighs, and Jisung can practically feel the breath touch his face, “It’s just the two of us again. Don’t you wanna touch?”

Jisung doesn’t even register that he’s starting to roll his hips against the carpet on Chan’s floor, reaching out to touch the cool surface of the mirror. It feels like he’s melting into it. “Yes, lemme touch. Please.”

“Take off your clothes for me, Sung. Let me see you.”

The command makes Jisung shiver with anticipation, so he leans away from the mirror to get a full view of himself as he pops open the buttons on his shirt. Inch by inch, the fabric falls open along his torso to reveal his chest and stomach. By the time he shrugs off the material and lets it drop to the floor, Jisung is in absolute awe. He looks so pretty. They both look _so pretty._ The jeans are the next to go, and Jisung eagerly fumbles with the clasp on his pants before tugging him down along with his briefs. Just the sight of his half hard cock leaking onto the carpet is enough to make him moan.

His reflection fusses at him and Jisung feels a featherlight touch on his inner thighs, dick twitching pitifully as the flesh there is massaged slowly. “Look at my messy baby,” his reflection starts up again, the touches travelling further upwards to wrap around his cock, “You’ve always looked the cutest when you’re falling apart for me. You think Chan is pathetic when it comes to getting fucked, but look at yourself. Look at yourself in the mirror, baby. What do you see?”

“I see…” Jisung pauses as he admires the sight of himself once again. The tip of his cock is smearing some stickiness just below his belly button now that he’s fully erect. His thighs are trembling ever so slightly in his excitement, and his chest is rising and falling softly as he takes shallow breaths. Jisung takes in how his cheeks are ruddy and red, and how his wet bottom lip is slightly swollen from having been nibbling on it out of habit. He looks desperate, and needy, and absolutely perfect.

“Finish your sentence, Jisung.”

“…I see-” Jisung takes in a deep breath, “-perfection.”

“Such a smart boy, using your words,” his reflection praises him some more and continues with his ministrations, rubbing tiny circles onto Jisung’s hips and thighs with his thumb. The feeling is nice, but it’s getting harder to ignore the persistent throbbing between his legs. Just as Jisung is beginning to grow impatient, he feels a finger beginning to circle his entrance and he could cry from the relief of knowing what’s to come. 

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” Jisung hears the words being whispered into his ear, and he feels the tip begin to dip inside. The finger is barely wet, so the movement is painful at first before the feeling subsides into something a little more numb. It isn’t excruciating, but it doesn’t feel too good either.

“Lube?” Jisung pleads quietly, and suddenly the finger stills inside him.

“You know where he keeps it.”

Jisung pulls himself to his feet and hurries to Chan’s bedside, rummaging through the nightstand until he finally comes into contact with the palm-sized bottle of silicone lubricant. He settles himself back in front on the mirror and lays down on his back, keeping his feet firmly planted on the floor as he spreads his legs. “Good boy,” Jisung hears again, and now the slide of fingers in his ass is comfortably smooth. It feels like he’s being fingered there for hours, the stretch of being finger fucked combined with the fuzzy feeling he gets in his gut while teasing his dick is heavenly. Jisung doesn’t bother to suppress the hiccupy whines spilling from his lips, and the cry he lets out once the fingers start pumping into him more violently could probably be heard from outside the bedroom. But Jisung couldn’t care less. “Cute, you gonna cum on my fingers?” the voice teases again, “You’ll look so sexy cumming all over my hand. Look at yourself while you cum.”

Jisung does as he’s told and comes face-to-face with his reflection once again. His ass is taking the fingers so easily, and there’s lube dripping out of his hole and coated all over his thighs. His hair is messy from having been writhing on the floor, and there’s drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. He looks devastatingly wrecked.

“You take orders so well,” his reflection coos adoringly at him, “Getting close?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please, gonna cum,” Jisung whimpers out, the pleasure swirling inside of him just swelling larger and larger. He curls his toes into the carpet and cants his hips forward, chasing his orgasm with all the energy he has left in him.

“Then cum for me, baby.”

That’s all it takes for the tight cord in Jisung’s belly to finally snap, and he cums all over himself with his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. His orgasm is intense, leaving him paralyzed on the floor and he rides it out slowly, and it isn’t until the cum has dried on his stomach that he finally finds the energy to stir from his position in front of the mirror. The image of himself looking so fucked-out is erotic enough to make his spent cock twitch sadly against his thigh, and Jisung can’t help but laugh a little at his body’s reaction to his reflection. Although he’s by himself in the bedroom, Jisung doesn’t feel alone at all. He smiles sleepily at his reflection in the mirror. At least he’ll always have himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank u for reading!
> 
> This was originally inspired by THIS tweet:  
> https://twitter.com/hunterchxn/status/1222392444978900994?s=21
> 
> Sorry, idk how to embed links yet :’)
> 
> NSFW Twitter: @filthyracha


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